Heart Shaped
by Lillibetm3
Summary: Rose gets a tattoo that has an odd effect on the Doctor. NineRose Romance that will get smutty in later chapters. 10/10
1. Heart

**

* * *

****Authors Note :** I wasn't intending on posting this fic here, but I changed my mind. I've been writing this while 'on a break' from _'Strange Magicks,' _(which I'm writing again.) 

I hope you like it.

Lilli

* * *

Chapter One : Heart

It only really showed when she wore her favourite low slung jeans. But showing it off wasn't the point, knowing it was there was enough. She'd wanted to have it done for ages, and had finally plucked up the courage during a visit to an alien market of all places. Her Mum would doubtless go spare if she ever found out, so all in all it was probably a good thing that no one else knew about it.

Except that someone else did know about it.

oOo

They were climbing over rocks and boulders to get down to the meadow below instead of taking the easy route (don't ask), when they suddenly ran out of ground underfoot and were faced with a steep drop. The Doctor went first, while Rose hung on for dear life from the grassy edge, making him swear on all things TARDIS that he'd catch her when she let go. He grinned up at her, crossed both his hearts and promised to die -- and not regenerate, if he didn't catch her. Rose closed her eyes tight shut and let go of the edge.

He caught her of course... and fell over doing it. The Doctor landed on soft ground and Rose landed on the Doctor. She sat there on top of him for far too long just grinning at his wounded pride. Then he grinned back and in one lithe movement the situation was reversed -- with Rose securely pinned down on the soft grassy earth, the Doctor triumphant above her. He lifted her arms above her head and held them there, looking down at her with eyes that raked over her body until her laughter faded, and all she could do was stare back into his face; wishing so hard that he would kiss her. 'Course he didn't kissed her.

He got to his feet and pulled her up onto hers. He let her brush herself down and then he grabbed her hand and they were off again. No time to dawdle he said, over his shoulder, they had to get back to the TARDIS before those nice people with the pointy sticks realised that they had escaped.

But the Doctor had seen it... and it was all he could think about.

oOo

They ran back to the TARDIS with the wind at their backs and a good thing too, because the pointy sticks were being hurled by this time and as it turned out, some of those doing the throwing had quite good aim.

Rose slammed the TARDIS doors shut as the Doctor set to work at the console table, throwing switches and pulling levers with manic glee in his face. The central column came to life and the song of the TARDIS began. Rose gave a sigh of relief and leant back against the doors while she stared at the Doctor. It was quite amazing how much he seemed to delight in near death experiences -- he was averaging at least one a month.

The Doctor turned to look at Rose as though he knew he was being watched and his grin drifted away, a darkness coming to his steely eyes as he walked slowly towards her.

Rose held her breath, taking in his purposeful approach with her eyes wide and her heart racing. She'd half expected him to reel off a joke about the aliens they had just out run, but the more she stared into his eyes the more she realised that whatever was going on in that mind of his, it had nothing to do with them having just escaped being thrown into a volcano.

He didn't stop until he was mere inches away from her. Rose could see the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest as his breath touched her cheek and she stared wordlessly up into his eyes. Time may have stopped, she wasn't sure -- at the very least it must have shuddered.

She actually felt weak at the knees, and she knew it had more to do with the closeness of the Doctor than any after effects of her marathon sprint. She licked her lips and felt a shiver run through her blood. Why was he looking at her like that? All dark, and hungry, and intense. Didn't he know what that did to her?

He touched the curve of her hip with one cool hand and Rose gasped then blushed, silently cursing herself for behaving like a fifteen year old. She swallowed hard under his flickering gaze and nervously licked her lips again.

"Doctor?" God even her voice was shaking -- make that a twelve year old.

He didn't acknowledge that she'd spoken, but slipped his long fingers under the hem of her top and ran them leisurely across the waistband of her jeans, like it was the most natural action in the world. Rose didn't know what was going on, or why it was going on, but she had no intention of stopping it -- whatever _it_ was.

Rose closed her eyes, and this time swallowed down a gasp. She felt the Doctor's fingers gently rub across the warm skin of her hip, sending shots of fire through every nerve ending of her body. Then his thumb gave a lazy stroke, pressing a little firmer to where his fingers had teased her flesh.

"When did you get this?" The question came on a dark breath that warmed her cheek.

She opened her eyes. He had spoken hadn't he? She stared up at him. He looked curious, so she figured that he had.

"Um..." she bit her lip, realising what he meant. "Oh." She looked down at where his touch had pushed up her top... revealing her tattoo.

"It's new," he said softly, his fingers returning to torment the flesh around this _new_ embellishment -- but not once touching it. Rose half believed that he was teasing her, but she dismissed the idea. Wishful thinking. She had to stop that.

She met his gaze again. New. She didn't ask him how he knew that. She was having a hard enough time trying to form though. She could feel her heart beating. Could he hear it? She could still feel his hand resting at the curve of her hip, like it belonged there. How was she supposed to think when he...

She blinked. Focus, for God sake, focus.

"Um... three planets back, er... Gulmiggon?"

"Guilmalgorn," the Doctor corrected. He pulled back, his whole manner changed, now scolding, angry, holier-than-thou. "Rose, are you _insane_?"

"What?"

"Have you any idea what kind of infection you've opened yourself up to?"

Rose opened her mouth, about to reel off the speech she had prepared for her Mum. With a little tweeking she felt sure she could dazzle the Doctor with it.

"I..." was as far as she got.

"You could have Prigga mites burrowing into your bones as we speak. You could have Mern larve snuggled under your skin, just waiting to hatch out as soon as you're done incubating them. If you're _really_ lucky you might even have a Chrona worm making it's way through your bloodstream laying eggs as it goes."

Rose stared at the Doctor, then the tattoo, then the Doctor, then the tattoo, then the Doctor.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked hopefully.

The Doctor grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the door. "Med bay, _now_!_"_


	2. Doctors Orders

Chapter Two : Doctors Orders

Rose obediently rolled down the waistband of her jeans and bit down hard on her bottom lip, as the Doctor ran the sonic screwdriver across the heart shaped tattoo on the curve of her hip. She tried to think of brown paper parcels tied up with string, whiskers on kittens and... something with mittens, but for the life of her all she could think of was Prigga mites, Mern larve and Chrona worms.

"It's only a tattoo," she said, half to convince herself.

The Doctor looked up. "No Rose, if you'd had this done on Earth is would _only_ be a tattoo. As it is you decided to have it done on Guilmalgorn."

"What's so bad about Guilmalgorn?" Rose asked. "I've seen worse planets, an' the tattooist wasn't so bad. I mean, once you got past the blue teeth and orange hair, he was okay. I had to draw the heart for him though; he didn't know what 'heart shaped' was an'..." her words trailed away as she saw the look on the Doctor's face. He had disapproval down to an art form.

"What's so bad about Guilmalgorn is what they use for the colours of their tattoos."

"Oh," Rose said heavily and stared at the cherry red outline on her hip. "You're gonna say 'not ink', an' then follow it up with something gross, aren't you?"

"Not _exactly_ ink," the Doctor said, looking at the readings on the screen he had Rose hooked up to.

Rose avoided the obvious question and stared at the screen instead, but she couldn't make sense of any of it. She looked to the Doctor's face, but he wasn't giving anything away. She sighed again.

"Well?" she asked. "What does it say?"

"It say's that you're probably okay."

"Probably?"

The Doctor nodded. "At least 93 percent."

"Good," Rose said. "I mean, that's good isn't it?"

"We'll know better in a couple of weeks."

Rose stared at him. There was something he wasn't telling her, she knew it. "What did you mean before... not _exactly_ ink?"

The Doctor smiled as though he had been waiting for the question.

"Guilmals use a mixture of crushed insects -- the harmless types, to provide the intensity and variety of colours that they use in their tattoo inks. The problem is that other less harmless insects come along and lay their eggs inside these eyecatching insects so that the babies have something nice an' tasty to eat when they hatch out. More often than not the eggs survive the ink making process." He let Rose fill in the blanks from there.

Rose pulled a face and looked at the crisp red outline of the heart shape on her hip.

"Just like 'Alien'," she said and then, "Oh my God, I'm John Hurt and you're Sigourney Weaver." She stared up at the Doctor. "Sod 93 percent! Do something!"

"I am doing something," the Doctor said and turned his back for a second. When he faced Rose again he was holding a large syringe of turquoise liquid, he gave a cheery smile. "Antidote."

"I hate needles."

He raised his eyebrows and looked pointedly at the tattoo. "Funny that, you seem to have been fond enough of them on Guilmalgorn." His gaze narrowed. "Oh by the way, I forgot to tell you the best bit about the Chrona worm. Once it's travelled through your bloodstream it heads for the head." He grinned suddenly. "Heads for the head -- geddit? Anyway, once there it burrows into your brain an' eats it."

Rose held out her arm and squeezed her eyes tight shut.

A second later it was done. Rose hadn't felt the injection, just the cool rush of whatever the turquoise antidote was called, flooding into her bloodstream. It had felt like snowflakes falling onto her warm skin and then melting away into nothing. Rose opened her eyes as the Doctor turned away to dispose of the needle.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, looking at her arm.

The Doctor turned to face her and nodded briefly. "S'pose. But next time you decide to do anything like that can you do it on Earth, and make sure there's a certificate on the wall?"

Rose nodded, only half listening. "Yeah, sure. Certificate." She rubbed her arm, which was begining to tingle a bit. More than a bit. Quite a bit. A lot.

"Now all you have to worry about is the side effects," the Doctor said as though it was almost an afterthought.

Rose looked up at him from her arm full of pins and needles. "Side effects?"

"Don't worry. They don't effect everyone, and none are permanent."

"What kind of side effects?" Rose demanded.

The Doctor shrugged. "Could be any number of things. They're a bit like 'Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans'. You never know what you're going to get till you..." he stopped suddenly, aware that Rose was grinning at him.

He shifted from one foot to the other, not wanting to meet her eyes. Rose delighted in teasing him over his bed-time reading. For a second her wide grin of amusement knocked some of the wind out of his sails; then he silently reminded himself that he was 'The Oncoming Storm' -- a force to be reckoned with. He coughed slightly and picked up where he'd left off.

"Sneezing, itching, pins and needles, spots, headaches..."

"Oh," Rose said, still grinning as she jumped down from the examination table. "Well they don't sound too bad -- pretty normal." She shook her arm, hoping to stop the tingling. In fact I have the pins and needles already."

"Warts, hair loss, teeth loss, sudden blindness..."

Openmouthed Rose stared at the Doctor then felt her head swim, as everything in the room suddenly became dark. The Doctor caught her as she fell.

"An' fainting," he added as he swept her up into his arms. "Followed by several hours of unconsciousness."


	3. Cause and Effect

Chapter Three : Cause and Effect

The Doctor couldn't quite stop grinning to himself as he carried an unconscious Rose through the TARDIS corridors. Rose Tyler... fainting! His grin grew unreasonably wide. Oh she'd never live it down -- not if he had anything to do with it. He planned to roll this one out at Christmas parties.

He reached Rose's room, putting his back to the door he pushed it open and carried Rose inside, crossing to the bed and carefully depositing her down onto it. He pulled off her trainers and was just about to leave her when he stopped suddenly. Rose's top had ridden up slightly and the waist of her jeans just skimmed underneath where the brazen heart sat. For some reason he couldn't look away from it.

He swallowed hard, telling himself that he should probably take a closer look -- just in case; he was a Doctor after all. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand moving to sit gently at Rose's hip. He waited a second, then his fingers slowly traced the outline of the heart. Rose made a soft unintelligible sound. His eyes darted to Rose's face, and he was relieved to see that her eyes were still closed. He returned his attention to the heart shaped tattoo.

What had she been thinking? His fingers stroked the delicate outline. It was pretty, he'd give her that -- although he'd never admit it to her face. Oh no, he was sticking with full on disapproval to her face. But on the inside...

The Doctor stared at the deep crimson of the heart and thought that he should actually be going now. Let Rose come round in her own good time rather than... why couldn't he look away from it? Well no, that wasn't strictly true; he could look away from the tattoo, but when he did he found his eyes trailing over Rose's body, taking in every detail of her sleeping form. How her hair had fallen over the crisp white pillow. How her lips were oh so slightly parted -- almost in invitation. How her top was twisted up a little too high. How soft and warm her skin was where his hand lay. He stroked the peach soft skin at the waistband of her jeans... not even aware that his fingers were moving lower, slipping under the edge of the denim, exploring uncharted skin. Rose moaned and her hips arched up as if into a lovers body.

That did it. That snapped him back to reality. He shot away from the bed and didn't stop until his back slammed into the far wall, ending his ricochet from her. He stared at Rose as though she was a language he couldn't translate. Nothing made sense. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog from his thoughts. His brain tried to re-boot, tried to understand, but all he knew was that he wanted her. Wanted Rose. His Rose. His -- he would make her his.

He could feel the heat in his body, his hearts were beating faster than was normal. Even standing on the other side of the room, it was all he could do not to return to her side and... He closed his eyes for a second to try to regain control of his senses, but the images of what he wanted to do to Rose were there in glorious technicolour. He groaned out loud and opened his eyes, but his gaze could only settle upon the sleeping temptation before him.

This wasn't normal. He knew normal - he could control normal. He had controling normal down to a fine art. But no, this, whatever the hell this was, was opening up locks and smashing down doors. It was pulling down every wall he'd built around his desire ever since Rose had come on board the TARDIS. This was not normal.

He tried to fight it, tried to remember what she was to him. Rose. Human. Friend. Companion. Hands held tight, running.

But it was strong. Perhaps stronger than he was.

What she could be. What he wanted her to be. Rose. Lover. Mate. His. Bodies twisting together, breathless.

He felt consumed with need, desire. Even though all he was doing was standing looking at her, it took all his strength to turn and walk out of the room, yet somehow he managed it.

Something was wrong and he knew he had to figure it out quickly, or when Rose woke up he wasn't sure he'd be responsible for his actions.

He made his way back to the med bay to look over Rose's test results again. He had to have missed something.

oOo

Distance it seemed did not only 'make the heart grow fonder', it also made the mind think clearer; or at least it did in the case of whatever had been affecting the Doctor. It seemed the further he got from Rose -- the more doors and corridors he put between them -- the less fevered his thinking was. By the time he'd reached the med bay he was back to his normal self, fully able to control his feelings for Rose. His own master one more, he put his reckless emotions back inside a box hidden deep within himself. Back where they belonged, back where he'd thought he'd had them safely tucked away, and slammed the lid down.

He turned to face the screen that still bore the table of readings he'd taken from Rose. His eyes narrowed, the sour taste of anger twisting in his stomach. He did not enjoy being turned into a puppet, especially when he could not see who or _what_ was pulling the strings.

He dragged a chair up to the screen and took his seat, his arms folding stubbornly arcoss his chest as he set the monitor with a cold gaze. He carefully studied each read out and compared them with what he already knew of Rose's genetic patterns.

Chromosomes, check. Double helix, check. White cells, red cells, blood group, check, check, check. Clutching at proverbial straws he even made sure that the chemicals in Rose's hair colour were the same as ever. They were. Everything was the same. Everything that was supposed to be there was there. He didn't understand, something had to have...

He stared at the screen. Blinked. He saw it. He really couldn't understand how he had missed it before. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips. Questions were now answers. His stomach tightened into a knot. He couldn't look away from the screen.

It should not be there. It did not belong. It was not part of Rose.

Give the man in the leather jacket a cupie doll.

His thoughts became crisp, cold, clear, like a winter morning. He reached within himself and carefully turned a key... locking the box.

At least now he knew what he was up against.


	4. Safe ish Distance

Chapter Four : Safe-ish Distance

The Doctor checked in on Rose after a couple of hours, only to see her still curled up and fast asleep. He leant against the door frame, still too wary to venture further into the room -- aware of what would happen if he did. But from this safe-ish distance he was content enough that she was fine, blissfully lost in the land of nod. Dreaming of... _Mickey_, no doubt. He tried not to think about that. Then he tried not to think about why he tried not to think about that.

He sighed, annoyed with himself, he knew full well that his thoughts should be focused on the problem at hand and not Rose's boyfriend -- _ex_-boyfriend. It was strange, he thought, that he'd never placed so much importance on such a small word as _ex_, before. He felt sure that there were a multitude of far more important words that he could fixate about, and all with far more letters.

He groaned and crossed his arms, still watching her. He'd break the news to her when she woke up. He'd sit her down and tell her in his very best 'trust me I'm a Doctor' voice that she'd be fine, she'd be great, she'd be fantastic. Well... just as soon as he figured out how he was going to fix it. One thing was for sure, this time his sonic screwdriver wasn't going to come to the rescue. This was going to take a bit more than jiggery pokery.

Watching her, he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept and he began to realise just how tired he was. He gave a wry smile as he considered the possibility that his nine hundred years were finally catching up on him. He felt sure that when he'd been three hundred he hadn't ached so much; but then he was almost certain that his younger days hadn't been quite so full of running. He shrugged himself away from the doorframe and took a last lingering look at Rose, deciding that maybe it was time he slept too, so he stepped back into the safety of the corridor and headed towards his own room. Alone.

oOo

Rose opened her eyes and found herself on her bed, staring up at the white ceiling of her room, her mind a little foggy as to how she had ended up there. The last thing she remembered was being in the med bay because -- she sat bolt upright scrambled off her bed and quickly checked that an alien creature wasn't about to rip its way out from her chest cavity. Breathing a somewhat unsteady sigh of relief she slumped back against her bed. Bloody side effects!

She'd fainted! Tyler women didn't faint -- not ever. Except... she had, obviously.

Shit.

If this ever got out her name would be mud, she'd never be able to walk through the Powell Estate again. There was only one thing she could do; she had to find the Doctor and swear him to secrecy. Make him take an oath or something. Have him promise faithfully not to, not to...

She groaned, what the hell was she thinking? This was the Doctor. He was going to blab this all over the universe and there was nothing she could do to stop him. But that didn't mean she was going to go down without a fight -- Tyler women _definitely_ didn't do that. She collected her thoughts and pushed herself away from the bed, opened her room door and still in her socks, padded off down the corridor in search of the Doctor.

oOo

The Doctor wasn't in the med bay, console room, library or the wardrobe room. And to Rose's great surprise he wasn't even in that room at the end of the long corridor; the one filled with junk -- and yes, he'd told her a hundred times it _wasn't_ junk. But she knew junk when she saw it, and he wasn't fooling anyone.

Taking yet another turn down yet another corridor she decided to try the observatory, garden and kitchen. However, after Rose found herself standing infront of the same wooden door five times in a row, she had to accept that the TARDIS had grown bored of her wanderings and was trying to tell her something; and that something was that the Doctor was in his room.

Rose took a deep breath, not sure why she was feeling so nervous, or why her heart was jumping into her mouth, or why there were at least a hundred butterflies in her stomach, or why... Oh, this was ridiculous! She took another deep breath, told herself not to be so stupid and placing her hand on the silver door handle turned it slighly, pushing the door as she did so and walking into the room beyond.

She closed the door with a soft click and leant back against it as she held her breath, waiting for her eyes to grow accustomed to the dim light of the room. It didn't take long, and soon she could make out the Doctor, sprawled out across his bed, his body half covered by a white sheet -- and little else. Nervously she licked her lips, taking a moment to let her eyes drift curiously over the sleeping man before her. She'd never seen him asleep before, or without his jumper and leather jacket for that matter.

Rose bit her lip as conscience and curiosity wrestled within her. After two falls and a submission curiosity won, and despite her better judgement Rose took a silent step forward, then another, then another. Soon she was standing at the Doctor's bedside, her fears gone and wonder in her heart. She smiled softly, sleep was good for him, he didn't look so careworn. It was as if he'd let go of the worries he carried -- at least for now, and allowed himself peace. She was glad that wherever his dreams had taken him, it seemed he was content there.

Her gaze explored uncharted pathways across revealed flesh. She took in his long lean arms and smooth chest, before moving down and over toned muscle and naked skin. Her busy eyes continued their greedy journey until with a soft sigh she reached the plain white sheet that cruely denied her any further observations. Rose swallowed, her mouth dry and her body suddenly a little too hot.

Since there was nowhere left for her gaze to travel but back up again, she did exactly that, retracing her scenic journey over the Doctors lean frame, until she finished where she had begun only moments earlier; the Doctor's face. Only this time she was met by the sparkling flash of his blue-steel eyes staring up at her in the darkness.

Rose took an instinctive half step backwards as she tried desperately to think of an excuse for her being there at all. She opened her mouth to say something -- anything -- but all she could manage was a gasp of surprise as the Doctor grabbed at her wrist, and she was effortlessly tugged down onto the bed beside him.

In one lithe movement she found herself pinned down on the bed, the Doctor above her, and a look in his eyes that she had never seen before.


	5. Mixed Signals

Chapter Five : Mixed Signals

Rose stared back at the rogue darkness that filled the Doctor's eyes like a midnight thunder storm. It was a joke, she reasoned with all the common sense she could scrape together. A game. Had to be. He was just teasing her because she'd walked into his room uninvited. He'd let her go in a second. Any second. He'd grin at her and tell her that she should know better than to venture into strange bedrooms, where strange men lurked.

Yeah, any second, he'd do that.

Except he didn't.

Her heart felt like it was about to explode in her chest and her thoughts made about as much sense as a bowl of alphabetti spaghetti, so it took a few seconds for her to come to the only conclusion she could. Apparently the Doctor had ripped up his 'one hundred reasons not to shag Rose Tyler' list, and recklessly thrown it out into the time vortex, (risking the wrath of the intergalactic litter police in the process.)

Before Rose could protest (although if she was honest protesting was not high on her 'to do' list,) the Doctor moved again, insidiously adjusting his body until he had taken his rightful place; lying between Roses thighs. And that, dear reader, was the end of our heroine's clarity of mind. The alphabetti spaghetti was back. Double helpings too.

Rose's eyes grew wide at this sudden turn of events and she may have let out a squeak of surprise, although it might have been more of a squeal -- hard to tell. The point was that even through her clothes and the tangled sheet there could be no mistaking _that_. Any doubts Rose may or may not have had during her time on board the TARDIS concerning the Doctor's sexual compatibility with humans, and herself in particular, (oh don't give me that look, her mother was forever harping on about the Doctor being an alien; so it's little wonder that Rose was curious,) were well and truly stomped on. Well and truly.

After that she couldn't really help the huge smile that spread across her face. She thought that nothing would be able to shift that grin, but as it turned out she was wrong. A second later the Doctor lowered his mouth to hers and suddenly Rose's lips were far to busy with kissing to be bothered with smiling. A girl has to have priorities, even in space.

Strangely it was only when the Doctor began to trail soft but sure kisses down the side of her throat that Rose started to wonder if perhaps there might be another reason behind all of this. Not that her first theory wasn't brilliant, but it's always good to have options. After all, as good as all this was, (and it was _fantastic_ by the way,) it was also weird, and unexpected, and well... truth be told it was all happening a bit fast.

It wasn't as if she was wearing her 'Earth girls are easy' t-shirt. Which come to think of it, she hadn't seen since the last time the Doctor had done the washing. Funny.

Rose sighed, hating herself for being right. Well, it was more of a low moan actually; the Doctor was by this time doing something quite delightful to Rose's left ear, but the more he did it, the more Rose knew that something was wrong. That's what comes of being brought up right, she thought bitterly. Oh she was _so_ going to have words with her mother!

She tried to shut her ears to the little voice within herself that was steadily growing more insistent that she listen.

_'Not exactly himself today is he?,'_ it whispered.

'I'm not listening,' she thought.

_'Oh yes you are,' _it pointed out.

'No, I'm not,' she replied, then silently cursed herself for responding to a voice that she wasn't supposed to be listening to.

Oh dear. He was starting on her right ear now. That wasn't helping the situation.

"Rose," he whispered her name into her ear, the warmth of his breath making her skin tingle and her heart leap.

Oh, she just loved how he said her name. No one said it like he did, he made it sound... the way he said it was... he just... name melt sound want now. Please.

"Oh, Rose." His hand moved under her top, the touch of his cool fingers setting her on fire.

That was it, she was done for. She was ready to throw caution to the wind, forget all about the little voice inside her head and pretty much do everything her mother had told her not to -- and enjoy it too.

His fingers were moving up her body, skimming her warmth. Rose held her breath.

Any second now.

Any second.

Now.

The Doctor's hand cupped her breast and she instinctively mewed with need for him. His thumb brushed across the delicate covering of lace, which only made things worse -- or better. Really it rather depends on how you look at things.

"Rose," Her name again, soft breath and rough desire at her ear, yet still hesitant to take the next step.

"Yes, Doctor," she breathed out the words. How could he think that she didn't want this?

He kissed her cheek, only a fraction away from her expectant mouth. "Please... Rose."

Rose's fingers tentatively crept to explore his skin. "Yes." She stared into his eyes as they glittered with temptations. But she was unprepared for the words that fell from his mouth a second before he lowered his lips to kiss her again.

"Stop me."


	6. By Any Other Name

Chapter Six: By Any Other Name

There was clearly something wrong with the TARDIS's translator circuits because Rose could have sworn she'd just heard the Doctor ask her to... to stop him.

No, she couldn't have done. She'd imagined it.

Besides, she reasoned, actions spoke louder than words, and the Doctor's actions were quite frankly screaming that he absolutely did not want to stop. He was still kissing her, still touching her, and still... sexually compatible with humans -- even more so than he had been before. So all in all, Rose thought it safe to assume that what she'd heard, what she'd _thought_ she'd heard, had been the result of a bang on the head, most likely when she'd fainted.

Yes, that made much more sense.

With a low moan, the Doctor stopped kissing her, pulling away for a second, just long enough to remove Rose's t-shirt and throw it to the floor. With a dark and possessive gaze he breathed in every detail of her as she lay under him, her soft curves still held modestly behind a scant veil of white lace. Slowly he lowered his mouth to taunt one rose peak with a warming breath from his wicked mouth, before dropping fleeting kisses along the line where lace and skin met. His lips hovered for a moment above her heart, and Rose wondered if he knew how fast it was beating.

He shifted his weight slightly, one hand moving between their bodies, tugging at the buckle of his belt then making swift work of the button and zip on Rose's jeans.

"Rose, please you have to..."

She gasped, her hips rocking upward, her body crying out for more, her hands moving to the Doctor's shoulders, her fingers raking down his back. She curled her toes as the Doctor breathed butterfly kisses to her semi-covered breast, and his hand smoothed down her stomach.

"I'm sorry..." he groaned. "I have to... sorry... only way."

Rose's cloudy eyes fluttered open, confused as to why he was apologising, but then his mouth was at her throat again, kisses moving toward her ear, words being whispered as his hands moved down, down, down.

A smile danced at her lips and she turned her mouth to try and catch the Doctors, but then she heard his voice at her ear, dark and full of passion.

"Want you so much. Always have... _Jackie_."

Rose's eyes opened wide as the fire that had burned so fiercely within her, suddenly froze like ice.

Instantly she let out a scream of rage, angrily pushing the Doctor off her and onto the floor as she scrambled free of the bed and stood for a second staring at him in absolute fury. He was staring back up at her, dressed in only his black jeans, his arms behind him propping him up as his eyes, still dark with desire, trailed over Rose with a hungered and possessive look. He licked his lips.

''Rose..."

Oh, now that just took the biscuit! Rose grabbed one of the huge feather pillows from the bed and began to beat the Doctor with it.

"Oh, so _now_ you remember my name, do you?" The pillow struck the back of the Doctor's head with a surprisingly powerful 'thunk'.

"My Mum was right about you!" Another swing, another 'thunk'. "Pervert!" she yelled. "Alien weirdo! Sex maniac! Slimeball!"

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.

The Doctor gave a low animalistic growl and made a grab for Rose's arm. She knocked his hand away with the pillow, then swung it back toward his head again.

"All this time and you've been lusting after my _mother_!" THUNK!

Another growl, darker, louder, and god-dammit -- sexier.

The Doctor made a lunge forward, catching hold of Rose before she could take aim with the pillow, and with his arm around her waist he dragged her down onto the floor beside him. Rose was winded for a second but nonetheless tried to break free, the Doctor however was faster and stronger. With one easy movement he rolled her over onto her back, lifting her arms above her head and holding them there as he straddled her body, pinning her beneath him.

Captive under the Doctor, Rose could do nothing more than squirm wildly and glare up into his face. She wanted to scratch his eyes out, she wanted to slap his face, she wanted to drag his mouth down to hers and kiss him till he -- no, no, no. Bad Rose!

She wriggled some more.

"Rose."

"What?" she snapped.

"Stay still."

"Why should I?" she demanded, wriggling again.

The Doctor leant forward, his mouth only a breath away from hers as he spoke. "Because this is hard enough, without you doing that."

"What's hard enou...?

He shifted slightly and Rose stilled, her question answered.

"Oh."


	7. Birds, Bees and Bromide

Chapter Seven: Birds, Bees and Bromide

Seconds ticked past as Rose nervously bit her bottom lip, aware that the Doctor was watching her mouth as if he couldn't bring himself to look away from it.

"So," she said eventually, trying to keep control of her 'far to pleased with herself' tone of voice. "I suppose this means that you don't fancy my mum then?"

The Doctor's eyes flashed to meet hers, stealing away her breath with one look. He moved closer, his lips lowering to graze her jaw line with threatened kisses.

"Don't even joke about it," he warned, his breath cool against her skin.

"Then.." Rose licked her suddenly dry lips, "Then what was all that about?"

"What was all what about?" the Doctor asked, only half listening, as he moved his body slightly, his hand gently cupping Rose's breast.

Rose bit back a squeak of pleasure. "You said _Jackie_," she reminded him.

The Doctor gave a groan of disappointment, Jackie's name having the desired effect -- again. He moved his hand to the safety of the floor. "I had to make you stop me somehow," he explained.

Rose stared at him in a contemplative silence then asked the question that was begging to be asked. "Why? I mean, it felt like you were enjoying it." She blushed a little."Still does, as it happens."

The Doctor lifted himself off her slightly, albeit reluctantly. "I had to stop. There are some things you need to know."

Rose frowned a little. "Bird's an' bees stuff?" She grinned, enjoying herself far to much. "You're a bit late for that Doctor." She winked at him. "In fact, I bet I could teach you a thing or two."

The Doctor caught her flirty look. "Rose, don't," he warned.

"They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I'm willing to give it a go," she continued.

He closed his eyes for a second, apparently ignoring her.

Rose waited and waited and waited some more, then got bored. "What are you doing?"

The Doctor opened his eyes and gave Rose an exasperated sigh. "I'm trying to picture your mother in skimpy bikini if you must know."

That earned him a slap. Not surprising really.

"I bloody knew it!" Rose shrieked, as she pushed the Doctor off her and scrambled across the floor and away from him, not stopping until she was on the other side of the room. "You _do_ fancy her! She probably fancies you too. She never slaps anyone she doesn't like. It's like flirting with her! Oh God, it's been going on right under my nose all this time, hasn't it?"

She sat there, her back pressed firmly against the wall and stared at the Doctor, accusations flying like daggers from her eyes.

The Doctor groaned inwardly but remained where he was, half propped up on the floor, his eyes blazing with something he was trying to restrain.

"I don't fancy your mother," he said with conviction.

"So why were you thinking about her in a bikini?"

"Because the TARDIS kitchen is fresh out of bromide!"

Rose continued to glare at him. "Why should I believe you?" she asked, although she sounded as if she was starting to.

The Doctor gave a sigh. "It's your tattoo."

"What about it?"

The Doctor let out a slow breath. "We don't have a lot of time Rose, it's taking all my strength just to fight it for this long. I don't know how much longer I can..." He looked up. "I want you to tell me exactly what happened on Guilmalgorn."

Rose hesitated for a second then got to her feet. "You mean it's the tattoo that's making you act all... horny?" She couldn't help but sound a little disappointed.

The Doctor's eyes flashed with darkness and he stood up too, taking a few steps backwards, only stopping when his back was against the wall, a reasonable distance now between himself and Rose. "If you're not careful I'll prove it to you."

Rose blushed. "But you gave me that antidote thingy," she pointed out.

He growled. "Rose, tell me about Guilmalgorn, _now_."

"Fine!" Rose grumbled. "Whatever." She gave a clipped sigh and began "We were in the market and it was busy. You had wandered off to see a man about a... a..."

"A Hurakian mark 5 self adjusting containment enhancer."

"Yeah right, one of those." Rose said. "Did you get it by the way?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It was out of stock."

"Anyway," Rose continued breezily, "I was just browsing around the market when I saw this tent an'..."

"A tent!" The Doctor snorted. "Oh very hygienic, no wonder we're in this mess."

Rose's gaze narrowed. "You gonna shut up and let me tell you what happened?"

He waved a hand. "Go on. I can't wait." Despite his best efforts he found himself fixating over the fullness of her lips.

Rose pulled a face. "I've always wanted a tattoo, but there was no chance mum would ever have let me."

"Oh, I wonder why?" the Doctor muttered under his breath, his eyes sweeping up Rose's legs.

Rose ignored him. "So I asked if he could do a heart shaped one. Only, he didn't know what heart shaped was, so I drew it for him. Then... he said he was running a special offer an'..."

The Doctor's attention sharpened. "What kind of special offer?"

"Um... dunno exactly, it didn't make much sense. He said he could make the tattoo pretty for no extra charge."

"You're right, that makes no sense."

Rose suddenly realised her mistake. "No, hang on, he didn't say pretty -- he said attractive."

The Doctor groaned. "Now _that_ makes sense."

"All I had to do was sign a disclaimer."

"A disclaimer?" the Doctor repeated in disbelief. "An' didn't that make you the teeniest bit suspicious?"

Rose suddenly found her feet to be of enormous importance and studied them earnestly. "No."

"Fantastic," he said sarcastically. "He made it _attractive_ alright. He's laced it with insect pheromones. Sexual ones. G'rullian Venu moth pheromones as it happens, slightly altered to fit your bio chemistry."

Annoyed, Rose at last lifted her head and met the Doctor's gaze with a flash of defiance. "It can't be the tattoo," she said. "I had it done ages ago, an' you've only gone all predatory on me today."

The Doctor hesitated over his answer. "It must have been when I touched it. The pheromones were dormant until they were triggered by stimulation. They recognised a compatible mate."

"But you didn't touch it," Rose pointed out.

"Yeah I did." His gaze flickered somewhat as he tried not to stare at Rose's white lace bra.

"No you didn't." Rose shook her head. "You just sorta touched around it. So it can't be that."

The Doctor thought about it for a second. "Oh," he said heavily, then wished he'd been more careful with his tone of voice. His fingertips brushed the smooth wall he stood against and he tried not to wonder about the smoothness of Rose's skin.

"An' what does that mean?" Rose tilted her head as she waited for him to expand on his damning 'Oh'.

The Doctor considered the mess he'd got himself into as he pressed his back against the wall. Rose was right, in a way. He hadn't touched the tattoo, at least not while she'd been conscious. It had only been when he'd carried her through to her room that he'd stupidly let his fingers do the walking, and that had been when (pardon the pun) more than just his curiosity had been aroused.

He met her gaze and seeing a bullet with his name on it shinning in her eyes, he decided to dodge it, after all, there was no point in wasting a regeneration. "Must have been when you fainted. I must have touched it then."

"Oh." Rose looked at the floor for a second. That seemed plausible. She returned her gaze to his, not prepared for the intensity of desire she saw flickering in the depths of his eyes.

They watched each other in a tense silence, far to long for comfort, until Rose realised that their state of undress was not helping matters.

"Um..." She eyed her t-shirt on the other side of the room. "Don't you think we should put our clothes back on since this..." her eyes strayed momentarily toward the Doctor's bed, "Since this isn't happening?"

The Doctor moved away from the wall, his hands pulling loose his belt and throwing it to the bed as he advanced.

"Oh, this is happening Rose. Wasn't I clear on that?"


	8. The Flesh is Weak

Chapter Eight : The Flesh is Weak

In only three strides the Doctor closed the distance between himself and Rose. He stood achingly close to her, so close that she could smell the delicious mix of wool and leather that clung to his skin; an echo of the clothes he had forsaken. It was a scent she would forever recognise as being uniquely _him_. She had no chance to react, no chance to think or understand. All she could do was lift her head and gaze up into the blue steel of his eyes; eyes that glittered with such dark and wondrous promises that she felt a rush of fire sweep through her blood, and her skin prickle in anticipation of his kiss. It was all she could do to remember to breathe.

He lowered his head to hers as face to face they watched each other, their eyes mirrors to their souls. Neither could look away. Neither wanted to.

The Doctor's right hand came to cup Rose's cheek, long fingers pushing through the blonde of her hair as he tilted her head back a little, then hesitated, his lips hovering close to hers; the truest definition of temptation Rose had ever known. She fluttered in his presence, like a moth dazzled by the brilliance of a flame. Her hand moved instinctively to touch his chest, feeling the rapid double beat of his hearts under cool skin, and then she stroked lower, her fingers spreading out like a star. She felt the Doctor's stomach muscles clench as her fingernails grazed his skin and she found herself smiling under his watchfulness. She trembled as his other hand moved to the small of her back, purposefully drawing her against him. Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers, cool and oh so clever. It took no more than a gentle pressure for her lips to open under his, responsive and oh so willing. He deepened the kiss and she clung to him as she felt the universe spin and spiral around them.

His hand resting possessively at the small of her back moved lower, smoothing a firm stroke over her bottom and gently but firmly pulling her against him so that...

Oh. Her eyes opened wide. Compatible mate was right.

He broke the kiss, and for a second Rose felt dizzy from its loss, but then the Doctor took her hand in his and silently led her back to his bed. She followed in his step, trusting, silent and willing.

He lay her down and moved to half cover her with his body as his mouth captured her lips again, kissing her first soft and sweet, then changing into a dance of need and desire that Rose had only ever dreamed of. His hands traced across her skin, learning her curves, his fingers almost teasing her. He seemed to take great delight in the noises she made as his touch discovered the secrets of her body.

Rose could not prevent a soft moan from escaping her lips as she felt the Doctor lift her body slightly as he removed her jeans and socks. That done, he eased away from her for a moment, his admiring eyes feasting on his wanton Rose. He could not help but smile, certain as he was that Rose in delicate white lace underwear was the most alluring sight he'd seen in all his nine hundred years. His eyes trailed a lazy path over every curve, then his fingers and his lips followed the same path, until he was kissing her again; discovering her again and again and again.

Rose was breathless and oh so ready, the Doctor's touch having blinded her to all things but need and want and desire. She knew that nothing else mattered but this moment. This here and now. Nothing else existed.

Except... _It's not really him. Not really._

"Rose." His fingers brushed against her hip, her tattoo; the heart that did not beat.

She arched up into him, lost in the way he said her name. Drifting on pleasures and promises. Falling.

Except... _He wouldn't do this._

"Doctor," his name fell from her lips as his kisses moved from her mouth to taste her jaw, her neck, then lower, lower, lower. She felt his warm breath hovering at her breast, still covered in lace and she trembled, wanting this so much. So much.

Except... _It's the tattoo. You know it is._

She let out a breath and felt tears prick at her eyes. She tried not to listen, tried not to hear, tried not to believe.

Except... _He wouldn't be doing this if he had a choice. You know that. He asked you to stop him didn't he? He wanted you to stop him, because he knew that he couldn't._

She twisted from under his body. Positions are reversed. She straddled his body, hands on his chest and the Doctor groaned, rocked against her, his hands moving to her hips as he held her _just there_. She threw her head back as heat surged through her flesh, and her body screamed it's need. The flesh is weak after all.

She bit her bottom lip, forcing herself to think. Oh, she's on top, but she's not sure that she can do this. Not sure at all.

Except... _Is this really how you want this to happen? Really? When the choice isn't his? He can't think straight. You know he can't._

Rose reached down the bed and her fingers closed over the leather of the Doctor's discarded belt.

_Do the right thing._

She leant in close and kissed him hard, distracting him as she moved his arms up above his head. She pulled back and rocked against him. Another distraction. She watched as his eyes closed in pleasure.

She slipped the belt around his wrists and then behind one of the metal slats of the headboard. She tugged the belt tight, secured it, then moved back slightly, satisfied that it would hold.

The Doctor opened his eyes, dark, curious and then suddenly angry.

"Rose!"

She scrambled off the bed and grabbed at his leather jacket, slipping it on, covering herself with the reassuring scent of him. She pulled the front of the jacket together and wrapped in his armour, stood at the bottom of the bed staring at the Doctor as he tugged uselessly at his restraint.

"I'm sorry," she said, her mouth dry. "Turns out I can't do this, at least not like this."

He wasn't listening. "Rose, undo this belt now."

She shook her head and took a few steps backwards, afraid that she'd weaken. "I can't," she explained. "You're not yourself. I have to... I have to..." she stopped, suddenly realising that she was quite possibly insane.

"You have to come back to bed," the Doctor said with dark emphasis, his eyes glittering.

She shook her head again. "No." She swallowed hard. "I... I have to catch up on some reading." She turned on her heel, sounds of outrage echoing around the room. At the door she hesitated, glancing back at the Doctor as a slight smile played at her lips. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

The Doctor gave the belt another fierce tug. "Oh, _very_ funny."


	9. Let's Face The Music

_I'd like to say thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this fic. Just thought I'd let you know, there's only one more chapter to come after this one - and I'll be posting it tomorrow. Thanks again - Lilli._

Chapter Nine : Let's Face The Music...

Rose hurried through the TARDIS corridors, still barefoot and wrapped up tight in the Doctor's leather jacket. She huddled into its comfort, the familiar scent of him all around her, almost as if she was still in his arms. Of course she wasn't in his arms, a fact she was painfully aware of; and that only made her quicken her step. She had to sort this thing out. It was all her fault and she had to fix it because... because she really didn't think that she had the will power to say 'no' a second time.

With that in mind it was with some sense of urgency that she opened her room door, but once inside, her heart sank as she stared at the mess before her. Perhaps what made it even worse was that she could recall that on more than one occasion she'd told the Doctor (while wearing her best straight face) that her room was organised chaos, that she had a system, and that she knew exactly where everything was.

How her pants hadn't burst into flames she'd never know.

She gave an almost defeated sigh and closing the door behind her she took a step forward, contemplating where to begin. Her eyes flickered over the piles of discarded clothes, open drawers, overflowing boxes and most damning of all -- the space under the bed, or to be more accurate the _lack_ of space under the bed. The phrase 'needle in a haystack' sprang to mind.

_"You'll never find it,"_ said the little voice inside her, sounding quite sure of its self and more than a little smug.

Rose clenched her hands into fists. She was really starting to dislike that voice. Determined to prove it wrong, she headed across to the bed, dropped to her knees and lay down flat on the floor. It was then that she began muttering and cursing under her breath, in a manner that would have had her mother threaten to wash her mouth out with soap and water -- if she'd been on board. But then again, if Jackie had been on board the TARDIS, perhaps she'd have been far too busy castrating the Doctor to be bothered with her daughters filthy mouth.

Rose stretched her arm out to the mysteries of whatever lay under her bed and bit her lip hard.

She would find it. She would.

oOo

Rose had learnt a few alien swear words on her travels and after half an hour of discovering nothing more than some anti plastic, a box of matches and a packet of jelly babies, she figured that if ever there was a time to turn the air blue, it was now. However, the TARDIS wasn't so sure, and refused to translate them, even if no one was listening. Which did nothing to improve Rose's mood.

Since searching under the bed had proved to be a complete and utter failure, Rose got to her feet, but as she stepped back her foot hit something. Having run out of expletives to hurl she twisted around and snatched up the small box she had stood on. She was just about to throw it to the other side of the room in a display of childish pique when she stopped suddenly. The box was heart shaped.

She remembered now. _That's_ where she'd put it. In the heart shaped box. Duh! Carefully she opened the lid and then she smiled, took out what she'd been searching for and threw the heart shaped box under the bed.

The little voice inside Rose was silent -- sulking probably.

oOo

As Rose turned the corner into the corridor with the Doctor's room at the end of it she heard, at least she thought she heard, singing. At first she dismissed the idea, but the closer she got to the Doctor's room the clearer it got, and by the time she was standing outside the Doctor's door, it had become quite loud.

_Thirty-four bottles of beer on a wall,_

_thirty-four bottles of beer,_

_take one down,_

_pass it around,_

_thirty-three bottles of beer on a wall._

_Thirty-three bottles of beer on wall,_

_thirty-three bottles of beer,_

_take one down,_

_pass it around..._

Rose pushed open the door and just as she'd expected, the singing came to an abrupt stop. Hiding her grin she walked across to the bed where the Doctor lay, his arms still secured above his head by his belt. They stared at one another for a while, until Rose broke the awkward silence.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fantastic." The Doctor beamed at her. "Well, when I say fantastic, I mean fantastic for a man who's been tied to his bed for over two hours an' been forced to entertain himself by singing the top ten most annoying songs in the world. Much longer and I think the TARDIS would have decided to drain the oxygen from the room to render me unconscious."

Rose's smile got the better of her. "So, you're okay then?" she asked.

"Sort of, yeah." He set her with his blue-grey gaze.

Rose took a step closer. "Doctor, I..."

"Keep back."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"I said keep back. You know what happens when you get too close."

"Yeah." Rose nodded her head and her smile was back. "You start lusting after my mum."

He frowned a little. "It's not funny Rose."

She adopted a serious expression. "No, 'course it's not."

He gave a sigh and glanced away, seemingly unwilling to meet her eyes. "Rose, I'm sorry about... before."

She hesitated. "S'okay," she said softly, wanting to reassure him. She moved to close the distance between them and he looked up.

"Rose don't!"

She ignored him and moved to the side of the bed, tugging at the belt around his wrists and undoing the buckle. When she was finished she dropped the belt to the floor. "S'okay, Doctor." She stepped back and reached into one of the pockets of the leather jacket, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to him. "It's right there -- in the small print."

The Doctor rubbed at his wrists for a second then swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the side of the bed, directly in front of where Rose was standing. With a look of suspicion he took the offered piece of paper from her.

"What's this?"

Rose couldn't prevent her eyes from trailing over the Doctor's lean legs, still in black denim, she lingered for far too long at the undone button at the waist band of his jeans, then forcing herself to look away, she met the Doctor's curious eyes as he waited for her answer.

"It's the disclaimer," she explained. "The one I signed when I got the tattoo done."

The Doctor gave a nod before quickly reading it through. "I see."

Rose came a step closer, so that she was standing between the Doctor's legs. "It says the effects last no more than five and a half hours."

The Doctor gave another brief nod of his head before letting the paper drift to the floor. "Right," he said quietly. "Always wait five and a half hours. Gotta remember that one." He didn't look at her, but kept his attention fixed on his hands in his lap.

Silence watched them both, Rose knew that she should step away, but found herself reluctant. "So," she said, trying to prolong every second. "It's alright. I mean _we're_ alright. It wasn't your fault. It was just the moth pheromones. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Oh dear lord she was babbling, she knew it but she couldn't stop. "Could have happened to anyone. If I'd been on Earth it could have been Mickey and not you..." She saw the Doctor's jaw clench at that, and hurried to fix the mess her mouth was getting her in. "Not that I'd have... I mean me an' Mickey... we're just friends now. You know that right? Doctor?" She stopped to draw breath, wondering if there was any way to get her foot out of her mouth. "It's like I said, it could have been anyone." Why wouldn't the floor open up and swallow her? Why?

"They wouldn't have worked on just anyone Rose." The Doctor's voice was soft and dark, but still he did not look at her.

"What do you mean?"

Slowly he lifted his head until he was looking into her wide chocolate-coloured eyes. He couldn't pretend any more. It was time for him to face the music, and he knew it. "The pheromones, they wouldn't have worked if I hadn't already been... receptive to them. It's part of their design. They can only increase desire, they can't create it."

Rose's lips parted slightly. "But, that means that even before the pheromones, you wanted to... wanted to..."

"Yes."

She stared at him. "Oh."

"Have done for some time," he admitted.

Rose felt her heart miss a beat, then pick up a little faster. "Really?"

He didn't flicker. "Yes."

"Oh."

"Is that alright, Rose?"

She found that she was smiling, slow, steady, warm, sure and bright. "Yes."

Slowly the Doctor moved one hand, pushed aside the front of the leather jacket, his thumb brushing over the heart shaped tattoo that sat cherry red at the curve of her hip. Rose trembled from his touch.

The Doctor looked up and met her eyes. "Do you understand why I had to stop before?"

Rose shook her head. "Not really."

"It's all about choice, Rose. That's why I had to stop. I couldn't let anything happen between us -- not like that. I'd never make you do anything that you didn't want to do. When I... _if_ I make love to you, I want it to happen because it's what we both want." His thumb brushed across the tattoo again and when he spoke his voice was dark and soft. "Is this what you want Rose? Just me. No one else."

She didn't hesitate with her reply, not for a second. "Yes."

"I'm serious Rose. No more pretty boys. You should think about that before you..."

She shook her head, smiling. "I don't want anyone but you, Doctor."

"Rose." Hope flickered in his eyes as he looked at her.

"If this really is about choice Doctor, then I choose you. Every time."

Silence danced between them, and Rose watched as the Doctor's eyes grew dark as night as he looked at her. "You're wearing my leather jacket," he said.

Confused, Rose frowned a little. "Yes."

The Doctor looked into her eyes, into her heart, into her soul. "Take it off."


	10. and Dance

_Well here we have it, the last chapter, as promised. Thank you to everyone who left reviews and emailed me. I hope you like how it all ends for Nine and Rose. Can I just say, before you begin, that those of you who don't like smut really shouldn't read this chapter. There -- now you know what to expect. grins --- Love Lilli._

Chapter Ten : ...and _Dance_

Rose stared into the unfathomable depths of the Doctor's eyes as he silently waited. A shiver of uncertainty and then sudden realisation chased through her blood as her hands moved slowly to the front of the leather jacket, her fingers closing around the worn edges. She saw the Doctor's hooded gaze move down to where she hesitated. Her own eyes flickered over his shoulders, down his chest, stomach and... She took a breath and then, as the Doctor watched intently, she slowly drew the front of the jacket apart, shrugged her shoulders and allowed it to slip easily down her arms until it lay discarded at her bare feet. As she stood in front of him, dressed only in her underwear, and with the Doctor's silent watchfulness setting fire to her blood, Rose realised that she had never felt more exposed, more vulnerable or more desired.

Still silent, the Doctor allowed his eyes to drink her in, feast upon her, devour her. She was a banquet only for him. He looked at her with such intensity, as though she was a work of stone and not flesh, a depiction of a goddess crafted by a skill so ancient it had long been forgotten, and he was the first to see how beautiful she shone. With infinite caution he reached out to touch her, as though he was afraid he would break whatever spell of enchantment he was under.

His cool fingertips stroked across her warm stomach, dancing circles of his language against her skin. Rose threw her head back and closed her eyes as he painted invisible words of ownership, of possession, of belonging. She held her breath, determined not to make any sound that might distract the Doctor from what he was doing.

The sweet play of torture continued until Rose thought she might die from pleasure. But then she felt the Doctor's touch leave her, his unseen marking of her apparently complete, and she feared she would die not from pleasure, but from the loss. Her blonde head lolled forward, as cloudy with bliss her eyes fluttered open to stare wordlessly at him. Her lips formed into a childish pout and her heart ached for the return of his touch. Stealing the patience of a saint she waited for the return of his caress.

The Doctor's eyes glittered as he stared at her, _his_ Rose. He lifted a hand to her breast and heard her gasp, saw her brown eyes flash with a ghost of gold, and both his hearts filled with his love for her. Gently his fingers brushed her covered breast, his thumb stroking across a hardening nipple, once, twice, three times; bringing it to rapt attention.

"Doctor." His name fell from Rose's lips, a sound of tormented pleasure.

"Shh... " he whispered softly, stroking the delicate lace one last time before his hand dropped back to his lap and he looked up at her with clear instruction in his eyes. "Take it off."

Rose felt her heart jump and she licked her lips, as without even realising it she obediently reached behind, her fingers moving to undo her bras tiny hooks. She allowed the narrow straps to slip down over her shoulders, but that was all. She moved her arms to cover herself, catching the bra before it could fall away. She dared to meet the Doctor's wicked eyes, a smile dancing at her lips, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she played on false modesty. She saw his eyes grow hungry for her, heard his low groan of frustration, but still she waited, understanding the power she had over him. He was _hers_, and it was an intoxicating feeling.

"No." She shook her head in playful refusal. "I won't. Not 'till you say, please." She gave a teasing smile, a flutter of her eyelashes and bit down on her lower lip as she revelled at her own audacity. "Say _please_ take it off."

He lifted his head, the steel in his eyes glittering, all emotions hidden away from her. "You want me to beg?" he asked, without a hint of curiosity to betray him.

Rose frowned a little, not altogether sure if he was serious. "Would you?" Her words were hushed, no more than a whisper.

"Yes Rose," he replied, his voice was filled with honesty. "If you asked me, I'd fall to my knees in front of you and beg. Is that what you want?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. He was really willing to do that? To humble himself before her, to give her such power over him. She shook her head, a silent response to his question. She didn't want that, not at all. She wanted the man she saw before her, the man whose passion and fire raged in his eyes, in his blood, in his hearts. She wanted the man she had always wanted, always would want, _her_ Doctor.

She swallowed hard and again shook her head resolutely. "No, I just want..."

"Shh..." He reached up and put one finger to Rose's lips, then trailed it down her throat, across her collar bone and down to gently brush her fingers where she still held herself covered from his eyes. "_Please_..." he whispered, oh so softly, "... take it off."

Rose trembled, her breath unsteady, her heart racing. She moved her hands, letting the bra fall away.

Suddenly self-conscious she half closed her eyes. His silence was deafening. Her doubts crept in, rushed in, flooded in, soon she was drowning. She bit down on her lip, not quite brave enough to steal a glance, to learn what he _really_ thought of her. She felt the cool touch of his hand brush against her cheek and her eyes fluttered open. The second she met his constant gaze all her insecurities vanished.

"You're beautiful," he said softly, and she believed him.

He pushed his fingers into her blonde hair and drew her lips down to his, claiming a kiss born of rapidly growing desire. For a second before he had kissed her he had stupidly thought that he would be able to take things at a slower pace; but that had before she responded. Now, he almost smiled at his foolishness. This was fire and urgency and want and need. There was no slowing this down. And he was fine with that.

His other hand moved to stroke the small of Rose's back, firmly pulling her closer as their kiss deepened. Rose put her hands onto the Doctor's shoulders to steady herself as she leant into him, her fingers brushing against his throat then moving up to rake through his cropped hair. They fed each other moans, gasps, torn cries of pleasure, and each one was swallowed down with greedy licks and bites of tongues and teeth. His mouth caught her nipple, his tongue circling, his breath tormenting, his lips demanding. Rose closed her eyes, losing herself in the ardent tug of his mouth, the attention of his teeth, the warmth of his breath. But nothing could have prepared her for the surge of arousal that swept through her like a forest fire, the second she felt the Doctor's hands move to pull down her knickers then firmly push two long fingers up inside her. At the same moment his clever thumb discovered her clit, giving it such delicious attentions that Rose almost screamed.

She rocked against the Doctor's hand and felt another finger slide up into her. She lost herself entirely to the play of his fingers, realising that the Doctor was the first lover she'd had who'd even attempted to find her clitoris -- let alone understand what it was for. But before she could wonder on that miracle her eyes opened in surprise as she felt the unexpected waves of a sudden and unstoppable orgasm crash through her body.

Rose cried out his name as she came hard and fast, her hands grasping at his shoulders as her body soared. He was her anchor, holding her to him. She was safer than she had ever been even as a storm of his own making claimed her. The Doctor watched as she flew to the stars, watched as she burned there and watched her slowly drift back to his arms. He eased her gently onto the bed, lying her down and moving to cover her. His body was poised above hers, then his lips fell to bestow kisses to her burning skin. Rose gasped and he pulled back slightly, not certain he should continue -- no matter how much he wanted to. This was all so new, especially to him.

"Too fast?" he asked her, his breath ragged. He'd slow this down if she wanted him to. Wasn't sure _how_, but he would do it.

Rose shook her head, dizzy, breathless, her heart pounding. "Not fast enough," she said, arching up into him.

The Doctor groaned at the encouragement of her body. "Slower next time," he promised, dropping a kiss to her warm skin and ridding himself of his black jeans. Naked now, he slid one hand between Rose's thighs; but she didn't require subtle guidance and opened up to him willingly. The Doctor moved to take his place there, her legs wrapped around him, welcoming him, her body alive for him. He braced himself above her, suddenly hesitant. His arms were taut on either side of her as he battled with his desire and his conscience There was a part of him that believed he did not deserve this, did not deserve Rose, but... he wanted her. He wanted her oh so very much.

Sensing his doubts Rose raked her fingernails down his stomach, watching as the Doctor's steel eyes closed and his breath caught. She reached down further, to stroke him, and untold pleasures swept through her blood as she felt him shudder and stiffen in her hand. Braver still, and fuelled by his reactions Rose let her thumb sweep repeatedly over the head of his cock, until her fingers were slippy with the first stray jewels of his pre-cum and she had heard him gasp her name as if it was his salvation.

He opened his eyes to stare into Rose's and with blinding clarity he knew without doubt that he'd been wrong -- he couldn't slow this down. He'd lived nine hundred years without her and now that he had found her he'd never let her go.

With one sure movement he pushed inside her, his breath catching in pleasure as he found her warm, wet and oh so ready for him. She arched up into him, pulled his body closer, whispered words of love into his skin. He withdrew then pushed back inside her heat. His body shuddered, alive to each and every sensation. He kissed her and Rose opened her mouth to him. They discovered that their bodies instinctively knew how to move. Their dance was timeless, flawless, meant to be. Each touch, each kiss, each caress was somehow right. Passion built between them until it consumed like fire, burning through flesh and blood and bone. Their bodies moved together, an ancient dance that grew wilder with each heartbeat.

One last time the Doctor pushed deep inside and Rose clung to him as he came hard, calling her name, swearing his love like an oath. Her own orgasm followed a second later, sending her arching up into his body as he held her, lost and found.

oOo

Hours later, Rose woke beside her lover to find him watching her, she blushed a little under the intensity of his blue-grey eyes. He had been right, the second time had been slower... and the third. A lazy smile danced at her lips before it was kissed away and swallowed down. She slipped her hand into the Doctor's, their fingers interlocking as they met each others gaze and fell through the stars. Together.

_**The End**_


End file.
